At Midnight
by Raining Skittles
Summary: 'Kyle turned around, a genuine smile playing on his lips as a tear trickled down his cheek. "Happy Anniversary, Stan."' Major character death. Style


_**Hey guys, this is a little thing I wrote up after reading facebook likes...If you recognized it, I commend you :) Also, for the first time in my life, I'm dating 3 Wish me luck :D Wrote late...I'm tired.**_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, mkay?**

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><p><strong>At Midnight<strong>

Song: Footprints in the Sand- Leona Lewis

A South Park Fanfiction by Raining Skittles

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><p><em><strong>AS A TODDLER<strong>- you handed me my Teddy when it fell in the sand _

Kyle was slipping down the curly slide in South Park's only kiddie park, grinning widely as he did so. A small teddy was clutched tightly in the three year old's hand, and Kyle was holding onto it for dear life. His mother had told him not to lose it, or get it dirty.

"That was fun!" Kyle said.

As the red-head started towards the side of the park, where his mom sat, talking to other adults, he tripped and fell over. The Jew could not help it as a tear trickled out of his emerald eyes. His teddy bear had landed a few inches in front of his outstreched hand; covered in sand.

"Are you OK?" Kyle looked up to see a boy his own age, with shiny black hair that looked like silk. The boy was looking at him with concerned, wide, ocean-blue eyes.

"N-no," Kyle sniffled. "My leg h-hurts a-an my b-bear- mommy said I c-couldn't get it d-dirty!" His voice broke on the last word. The boy's own expression wavered. "P-please don't cry," he said, picking up the bear. Scanning it with an oddly experienced-looking eye, the boy rubbed the sand off with a sleeve.

"All better!" He announced. He helped Kyle up and smiled. "See, it's just a scratch! You're fine!"

"T-thanks," Kyle smiled. "My name's Kyle, what's yours?"

"Stan."

**AT 5**- _you raced me down the playground slide_

"I'ma win this time, Ky!" Stan announced, grinning playfully back at his red-headed friend.

"No, you aren't, Stan!" Kyle yelled back, just behind the noirette. They were both racing towards the slide; the last obstacle in their race. The two five year olds climbed nimbly up the ladder, twin grins on their faces. The two 'super-best' friends were almost at the top when Kyle managed to push past Stan, and started down the slide.

"No fair!" Stan called, pouting as he tried to make it down first. Kyle was one step ahead of him, though and managed to make it to the bottom seconds before the blue-eyed boy, who frowned at being the loser. "You musta cheated!"

"Nu uh, you're just a sore loser!"

"Yeah, right! I am _not_!" Stan whined.

"_Ha_, you even _sound _like a loser, now!" Kyle smirked.

**AT 10**- _you held my hand as we crossed the street_

"Woah, dude, this road's fucking busy!" Kyle yelled, his voice sounding about the roars of exhaust pipes and noisy engines. Stan nodded in agreement, holding onto his hat to stop it getting ripped from his head as cars zoomed past.

"S-stan...I don't want to get run over." Kyle admitted, his voice small. Stan's eyes softened as he watched his best friend. Kyle had gotten hit by a car when he was seven. Thankfully, it had been going slowly, and had braked before impact, so Kyle had only dislocated his shoulder and sprained his ankle. Ever since then, he had an immense fear of traffic.

"You _won't _be, Ky." Stan said with an smile of reassurance, as he grabbed onto his friends small, green, glove-covered hand. Kyle met his super-best's eyes and smiled softly, brushing a stray, firey ringlet out of his face. "Thanks." He said.

Stan walked Kyle across the road, hands entwined in a platonic way.

"There you go!" Stan grinned when they reached the other side. "See, it wasn't that b-" he was cut off as Kyle threw his arms around his neck, bringing him in for a tight hug.

**AT 12**- _you promised to marry me when we got older_

Kyle lay on Stan's bed, his skinny body sprawled out at an awkward-looking angle. He was tracing patterns in the air with his finger, idly drumming one of his hands against his thigh. "I spoke to Wendy today..." he started. Stan look up from his place, sitting in his computer chair.

"And..." he pressed.

"And she said she was gonna marry Karen when she was older..." Kyle said. Stan paused, pursing his lips as he weighed out his answer in his head.

"She's gay?" He decided to ask.

Kyle shrugged, "I dunno...who are _you _gonna marry when you're older?" He asked, making eye contact with his super-best friend.

"I dunno...I always thought I'd marry you if I didn't have anyone else..." Stan replied non-chalantly. Kyle blinked, before half-smiling.

"Good to know I have a back-up plan."

"Not so much a back-up plan...I promise, OK?" Stan said, grabbing one of Kyle's hands. Kyle blushed but didn't pull away as Stan looked at him with eager eyes, shaking with excitement as he continued. "I _promise _I'll marry you when we're old enough."

"OK, Stan, I believe you." Kyle smiled.

**AT 14**- _you asked me out on our first date_

"You want to _what_?"

"I want you to go out with me, Ky. On a date." Stan repeated, his face deadly serious. Kyle was blushing like crazy as he stood with his back to his locker, Stan blocking his way out. The fourteen year old red-head's lips pulled up into a smile.

"Where would we go?" He asked, watching as Stan's face lit up at not having been rejected.

"Well..." Stan drawled the word out, pretending to think about it. "There's a Nickleback concert in Denver tonight...I happen to have two tickets...what d'you think?" He asked, knowing that Nickleback was Kyle's favorite band. _Ever_.

"Do you think they'll play 'Gotta Be Somebody'?" Kyle said slowly, shock clear on his features.

"Yeah, I do." Stan replied.

"HELLYEAH!" Kyle yelled, beaming like a mad-man.

**AT 16**- _you still called me your boy_

"Hey, sexy." Kyle rolled his eyes as a group of college kids cat-called him. Stan was fuming internally, but, he knew why they had singled him out.

Kyle stood out in a croud without even trying. He was slender and lithe, and stood at only 5'6. His hair fell in perfect, firey ringlets, and his eyes were a bright, emerald green.

He was perfect.

Stan automatically wrapped his arm around Kyle's waist, pulling the Jew to him. He grinned cheekily at the college kids, and said, "sorry, guys, but this one's _my _boy." Kyle blushed, but melted into Stan's chest as the noirette ran his fingers through his hair.

"You're _mine_," Stan repeated into Kyle's hair and the boy nodded, whispering the same two words into Stan's chest.

_"I'm yours."_

**AT 17-** _we were driving to the movies_

_"_Come _on_, Ky!" Stan said, impatiently. "We're gonna miss the movie! It's our one-year anniversary!"

"I know, I'm coming!" Kyle replied, sitting down behind Stan on the bike. He grabbed hold of the handles by his thighs, and held on for dear life. Stan started along the road, making sure to make himself known to other drivers.

Stan only had one helmet and Kyle had made him wear it, despite Stan's many protests.

Kyle squinted ahead as he spotted a twin pair of lights, coming out of a road in front of them.

"S-stan...?"

**AT MIDNIGHT-** _the car didn't see us_

"STAN!" Kyle yelled over the wind. "CAR!"

Stan's eyes widened and he felt Kyle cling to him. The same thought registered through both of their heads: _we can't avoid this, the road is too narrow. _Stan, throwing caution to the wind, yelled, "Kyle, put on my helmet!"

"No! You'll get hurt!" Kyle protested.

"_NOW, KYLE!" _Kyle felt Stan grab his hand as he slipped the helmet onto his head.

** IN THE MORNING**-_ I woke up covered in blood, with your helmet on. When I looked over, you were holding my hand._

"Kyle! Mr Broflovski! Please wake up..._please..._"

Kyle's eyes fluttered open, and he felt dried gunk on his face and arms. His head was encased with something that he came to realise was Stan's helmet.

"Ah...you're awake."

"Where...w-where am I?"

"You were in a car accident, don't you remember?" Kyle felt a faint pressure on his hand and looked down to see a limp hand wrapped around his own.

..._Stan?_

**IN THE HOSPITAL**- _they told me you might not make it_

Kyle stood, gripping onto his crutches for dear life. "What do you want, doctor?" He demanded, eyes flickering back to the room brhind him, where a comatose figure lay.

"I- Mr. Broflovski, Stanley Marsh has recieved critical injuries, including head trauma and eternal bleeding...he may never wake up...life support is the only thing keeping him alive right now."

Kyle's eyes widened and he gasped, making his lungs ache.

**IN MY ARMS**- _you left the world_

Kyle slowly flipped the switch, his eyes welling up with tears as he did so. Sharon, Randy and Shelley Marsh stood nearby, holding each other.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into the limp figure underneath him's ear. "I'm so, _so_ sorry."

The heart monitor next to him started beeping erratically, and Kyle had to look away.

_Beep...beep...beep..._

A single tear fell from Kyle's eye and rolled down his cheek.

_Beep...beep..._

_Then it flat-lined._

_"I'm so, so sorry."_

**_IN MY HEART_**- _you'll forever be._

8 Years Later

South Park Cemetery was quiet and desolate, only one man stood there. He had firey ringlets, and bright emerald eyes, but they were darkened slightly, and held a lot of pain. He was gazing longingly at a marble grave stone.

**Here lies Stanley 'Stan' Marsh**

**b. 12-12-1986- d. 9-1-2009**

**Beloved son, lover and, above all, friend**

**R.I.P. **

His name was Kyle Broflovski.

"H-hey, Stan," he said, quietly. "I hope you're doing well on the other side. I-" he took a deep, shaky breath "-I miss you so, _so _much. It hurts...I thought the pain would fade but...it never will. I still love you. I always will."

Kyle sighed sadly, before placing a single flower onto the soil. It's stem was green, and it's petals, a light blue. He turned and started to walk away, when a slight breeze ruffled his hair and tickled his nose. In the exact spot Stan used to kiss.

Kyle turned around, a genuine smile playing on his lips as a tear trickled down his cheek.

"Happy Anniversary, Stan."


End file.
